WEBSITE: —
LOCATION: Wilmington, NC
RECORDS: 93
LATEST RECORD: over 1 year ago
JOINED: August 05, 2010
LOCATION: Wilmington, NC
RECORDS: 93
LATEST RECORD: over 1 year ago
JOINED: August 05, 2010
NCViper's RECommendations
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I miss you In ways that I can't Describe like the sky that was falling Birds and people, it was Falling Metal, it's all twisted And I miss you Like you missed That car That car You missed and I can't describe You missed the car By ten feet But I Missed going in to the building A phone call kept me from the building The building Building Building something new where it stood I can't do it, you know, I can't Can't describe Clouds that Burned and choked Clouds and the description Of the towers falling, walls falling and And the burning And the coughing And that one smile from that- You weren't there Until you were And I cried, because you were no longer here And my tears described The fire, it's just I miss you Like I wish the planes had missed you. |
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Well, I had to made this school project which has to be made with just pictures, so I decided to recreate Morgan M Morgansen's Date with Destiny. It's in spanish because I'm from Mexico but it's pretty much the same.
Thank you all who make it possible!
Thank you all who make it possible!
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Melanie: I don't remember the exact date I met Arthur, but it was a Thursday. Or maybe it was a Wednesday. Really, either way, the date doesn't matter. That I remember the events perfectly should be impressive enough. He walked into Professor Grossman's ENG 2100 class twenty minutes late. His hair was disheveled, his clothes wrinkled, headphones on as though he were walking down any old street. I could not believe what I was seeing. We attended one of the most prestigious universities in the country and he enters a class taught by one of the most respected authorities on Shakespeare looking like he just rolled out of bed. Professor Grossman shot him a look of derision, to my delight, and returned to the customary introductions of the course. They really should screen their applicants better, I thought. You could be the smartest man alive, but if you carried yourself with such disregard and disrespected your school, you should not be allowed to attend. Some of us were here to learn, thank you very much. Arthur: Melanie Paulsen was possibly the biggest bitch I'd ever come across. I don't know how I could have gotten on her bad side in a class of over 300 students, but I managed to. The entire first lecture, she shot me looks and stared at me. No matter how often I tried to ignore her, or make faces back at her, she just kept staring. What a freak. When she realized I was doodling instead of taking notes, it nearly sent her over the edge. I was surprised she didn't march over to my seat and grab me by the ear as though I were a child. If she had seen that I was drawing a picture of her with allusions to Satan, she probably would have done so. How could it be any of her damn business whether or not I pay attention in class? I only knew her name because she answered almost every question the professor asked. I was a self-taught expert on Shakespeare already -- I took this class because I needed an English elective, and Shakespeare was always preferable to Modern Poetry. Melanie: As midterms approached, his attitude did not change. He was constantly late, never took notes, and never willingly participated in discussion. He just sat in his seat and drew stupid cartoons. To my surprise, unlike all of the other class buffoons who were probably accepted thanks to generous contributions to the school from their parents, he didn't even talk to girls. Or boys. He didn't talk to anyone really. Occasionally the boy sitting next to him, who really struggled, asked for his help, which he gave without hesitation. It was nice to see some respectability in him. Even when I tried not to care about his progress, I could not stop staring. Sometimes he stared back. Arthur: Shakespeare was obviously a genius, but he fell for girls too easily. It's the most noticeable thing in all of his work. I would like to think it's all about one single girl, but I know that's a foolish notion. No one girl is capable of stirring up such profound emotion. If Melanie Paulsen were any part of his life way back when, he would have modeled her after a character like Juliet's idiot mother. Even the nurses always had more common sense than the parents. After midterms, I began my project for the final: a full-length play in the style of Shakespeare. Melanie stopped revealing to everyone in class what a pretentious know-it-all she was and largely kept to herself. Once I reached the second act, she was still staring at me. It wasn't until the third that I realized it was no longer the staring that looked like she was trying to blow up my head with her mind. With two weeks left before it was due, I started over. I couldn't stop staring back at her.She no longer seemed suited for the role of the idiot mother. I gave her attributes instead to the heroine. Melanie: After the final was the first time that Arthur spoke to me. I saw him approaching with a look of determination and immediately turned to walk the other way. My legs were short and not used to physical exertion of any kind, thus he caught up with me easily. He asked "what's up" and I noticed the complete void of anger in his voice and expression. I assumed with absolute certainty that he was coming to finally yell at me for staring at him all semester, now that our class together was over. "Nothing," I answered quickly, trying to escape once more. "Wait," he said. What he could have to talk to me about, I could not fathom, but the knot in my throat would not go away, and I was too afraid to find out what he wanted. "I'm going to be late for an exam," I lied. I hurried to my dorm, thankful my roommate was gone, and took a much needed nap. I woke up in time for dinner, and found Arthur's phone number written on a folded piece of paper and tucked carefully into my bag. Arthur: It took Melanie three days, but she finally called me. She spoke quietly into the receiver; I strained to hear her for a majority of the conversation. We talked for forty-five minutes before I asked her to join me at the bar. "On a Wednesday?" She said. I laughed and told her to meet me in the south yard at 9:30. I arrived at 9:34, and should have known that she would be waiting for me. She wore a light blue dress that hit at her knees, a neckline that plunged down her chest, but not so far that would be too revealing. I expected it was styled that way to make the viewer want to see more. It worked well. I ordered her drinks, but it didn't take much to get her drunk. Her daiquiri turned into three, which eventually turned into shots of tequila. She sucked them down like an old pro and ordered one for me. I licked the salt, took the shot, and searched frantically for the lime wedge that had been in front of me only seconds earlier. Melanie tapped me on the shoulder and revealed a big, green smile. I slowly moved closer to her, her grin disappeared as she realized what was really happening, though the lime stayed between her teeth. She closed her eyes, leaned forward, and put the lime into my mouth. I spit it out and kissed her. Melanie: I was surprised to wake and find that I was lying on Arthur's bed with my clothes still on, and Arthur snoring on the floor. I got up carefully and moved to the bathroom to wash my face and hopefully make a quiet exit. The water was cold; it took me a moment in my hung-over state to figure out how to make it slightly warmer. While part of my brain was trying to understand how a simple dormitory faucet worked, another part was going over the events I could remember from the previous night. Arthur was late to meet me, but he was interested and obliging. He paid for my drinks, something I only agreed to when I thought I'd be having two at the most and wasn't yet in such an inebriated state that I couldn't even count. He didn't drink as much as I did, and only talked about himself when I asked him questions. There was a ring of green in the center of his brown eyes. His bangs hung down and curled in a charming way. When he smiled, the right side of his mouth turned up before the left. He kissed me once, and carried me back to his dorm. I woke up when he set me in his bed; I then tried to unbutton his shirt. I pulled him down and his mouth was next to my ear as he laughed sweetly at my drunken actions, but ultimately did nothing more than pull his blankets to my neck. I was asleep before he said "goodnight", but was certain that he said it. In my dreams, everyone had brown and green eyes. Arthur: Typically she wore her dark brown hair up, but that night she had it down, hanging in graceful curls around her face. Her eyes were blue and filled with anxiety. They shone beautifully underneath the streetlights. It may have been creepy, but I briefly watched her sleeping, amused by the way her lips stayed puckered and she whistled when she snored. She told me how much she adored the French language and the records of Belle and Sebastian. I told her I was surprised she knew who they were and she laughed."I'm surprised too," she said. It was not difficult, but it was strange to look at her and not see the annoyance and anger I was so used to. She ended up wanting to know more about me as she got more intoxicated, an unexpected change from most drunk people I'd encountered who only ever wanted to talk about themselves. She told me that she thought I looked like someone whose parents paid their way into this school, a fact that she resented. I told her that they could have, but I didn't let them. If I wanted to take the easy way out, I would have chosen a much better school than this. Quietly, before she fell asleep, she said "I wish I'd have known. We could have had three and a half more months of this." I saw her every day after that until the holiday break. She went home to the west coast, and I to the northeast. I would've stowed away in the dormitory if it meant I could have spent that month with her. Melanie: He told me he never had any real friends. Arthur: She told me that she never had any real or significant friends. Melanie: We ate together. Arthur: We studied together. Melanie: We read Shakespeare together. Arthur: We slept together. Melanie: It still bothered me how much he didn't care about presenting himself. Arthur: It sometimes bothered me how anxious she was to please everyone else. Melanie: The crook of his neck was meant just for me. I stopped caring about how he looked, because he always looked good to me. I feared for a time that I would be unable to fall asleep to his pattern of breathing, or when I would stop dreaming of people with brown and green eyes and have nightmares instead. I'd never felt anything like this before. Arthur: I believed easily Shakespeare could have had only one muse. I'd never felt love like this before. Melanie: He read Shakespeare so often, I began to hate him. I told him there was an extraordinary amount of other poets out there for him to discover and he ignored me. I read him ee cummings by the light of a flashlight while we lay underneath the sheets. He recited his favorite line perfectly and never read Shakespeare to me again. "and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart". Arthur: I was going to tell her I loved her when she told me she was moving to France. "It's a perfect opportunity to study. I'll miss you so much. Don't wait for me." She left in August and I cried all the way home from the airport. I got back to the dorm and found a Belle and Sebastian CD on my pillow. In green marker, she wrote "I LOVE YOU" around the edge of the disc. Melanie: I tried but could never hate anyone as much as I hated Arthur the first time I saw him. Arthur: I wrote her a sonnet for every day she was gone. |
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Just made this one in the past 24 hrs. Thought about using it for @beautifulkitsch's Bird Song...tried it with a remix...but this song kinda wants to do something different. I'm just not sure what. I figured I'd post it and see if anyone had any ideas. :)
Just a quick shoot and edit to give an idea of what I had in mind. Still have some more shooting and tweaking to do, try to have some time off. Get to shooting!
This is part of a larger series I titled The Passenger & The Architect. All based around a dreamscape. It's a complex look at what the mind can conceive and the functionality of fiction in a created world.
This is part of a larger series I titled The Passenger & The Architect. All based around a dreamscape. It's a complex look at what the mind can conceive and the functionality of fiction in a created world.
